


Can't Stop

by gouguruheddo



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7152722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gouguruheddo/pseuds/gouguruheddo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisuke explores his sexuality, until he finds out exactly what he had wanted all along. Older-verse. One-shot. How it Came to Be. Daisuke x Ken</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Stop

**Author's Note:**

> this fic uses the maroon 5 song "can't stop". this is also relies on the events that transpire in "how it came to be". it takes place before chapter 5, and slightly before the entire start of the main events in the story... i do a lot of time hops. :|
> 
> i don't own anything etc.

_All alone in my room, think of you at a rate that is truly alarming_

_I keep looping my memories of you in my head, I pretend that you want me_

_And I fall asleep and dream of alternate realities_

_And I put myself at ease by pretending that he still loves me_

 

She wasn’t the typical girl you’d see in a porn. Her hair was shorter, just an inch or so past her shoulders, dark and cascading against her pale shoulders. It swayed in front of her face with each bob of her head and each arch of her back. Not being the most well endowed, her small chest poked above washboard ribs, but still bounced with each thrust of her hips. Her thin lips went ajar with over exaggerated moans, each pump from her partner crescendoing her voice into ecstatic wails. The man and woman kissed, the man taking her bottom lip in between his teeth as he slammed his cock deeper into her. Touching herself, she screamed through an orchestrated orgasm, her hair framing her jaw into a sharp angle, her eyebrows upturned in expert pleasure. 

Daisuke released into his hand a load large enough to fill five tissues. A personal record.

 

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_You never call, what do I do?_

_And I can't stop thinking about your love_

 

“Ohh, yeah,” Daisuke said through bitten lip. A muscular man stood behind a shorter man, the latter having been bent over a bed. The shorter man’s legs were spread wide, and his arms grabbing at the bed sheets in front of him while he took the aggressive fucking from behind. The top slapped and grabbed at the bottom’s ass, groaning as he slowed his pace, causing the other one to beg for more. He swayed his body against his lover, getting eventually what he wanted, a sweet release against the plush of the mattress and disheveled sheets. The tall one pulled out and came across the small of the back of his partner. The camera closed in as the pearls of cum pooled into the dimples of the man’s hips.

Daisuke sighed out with frustration. He backed out of the page in search for a new video. He was feeling more akin to some porn from his own country. The gay stuff just wasn’t for him.

 

_Can't believe I could think that she would just follow me everywhere I go_

_I just wrestle with you in my dreams and wake up making love to a pillow_

_And I fall asleep and dream of alternate realities_

_And I put myself at ease by pretending that he still loves me_

 

Daisuke figured it out in a dream. 

He’d been at school, though he graduated three years before… So it wasn’t really school, and it was only made more clear when the classroom door open out into the street. He was in Japan, but it wasn’t a street he could make out. It was a bisection of several places he passed every day, mutated into not so familiar patterns with intersections that lead to nowhere.

The streetlamps were on, but the sun had yet to go down. It was a weird twilight, between light and day, and his eyes couldn’t quite find the time to adjust. He walked for awhile--maybe forever--until he saw a figure in the middle of the street. Inky and dark, it didn’t seem like it had a solid form from a distance. The purples from the sky faded in around the crown of his vision, and he noticed the figure had snapped a few meters toward him. With a blink, it took him in--completely, warmly, and carefully. He was engulfed into the blackness, until he felt the tongue of the being press against his, until he ground against a firm hand and whimpered into hair that tickled his nose, until he rested against what he figured was the ground, and let himself rise to the surface of pleasure and pop against the surface of release.

He brought his groggy arms up around it, the height and weight and texture feeling familiar. Like the feeling of a warm bath during winter, or the empty space that echoed beating hearts during a fierce battle.

Daisuke woke up with his hips moving against his bed, and his fist pulling against his pillow. His chest felt light as it yearned for more. As his head came out of the fog of sex, a chill replaced the heat that lightly coated his skin.

It was just a dream, after all.

 

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_You never call, what do I do?_

_And I can't stop, and I can't stop_

 

He’d queued up everything from every genre, or at least ones that would allow him to keep some semblance of humanity. A lot of it he backed out of as soon as the video finished buffering, shaking his head with his dick impatiently waiting for him to figure out what to do to get rid of its arousal.

But he narrowed it down: bondage, small breasts, and anal. Not his normal cocktail of pornography, but it fit his new fantasies. He pictured giving it and taking it. Being the one tied up, and being the punisher. He pictured the slim figure riding above him, back bowing away from him as his imaginary partner flexed their legs to glide up and down his shaft.

Daisuke’s knees shook against his stroking. Black hair, blue eyes, thin lips, slim body, long limbs. He could hear the soft sounds escape his lover, so quiet as if it was seeping through his skin. He could picture the red indents on both their wrists, he could feel the soreness in his ass, and his dick aching to enter into his partner. Hard. Deep. Completely.

He imagined the whisper in his ear saying: “I _want_ you.”

A dark cloak came out of the man’s shoulders like wings. He stood tall over Daisuke’s naked, curled body. He looked up with a handkerchief pulled against his mouth, his tongue pressing against the rough cotton. He tried to move, but he was defenseless. Totally controlled. His need hard against his legs, his eyes begging to be punished with hateful affection. A gloved hand pulled Daisuke up to sit up against the wall, the two fingers digging into into the hollows of his cheeks, shaking his head until he became dizzy.

“I want you to fuck me like you _need_ me.” The man said.

Daisuke took his other hand to work his balls. He groaned softly as he imagined entering the man. Slowly. Cautiously. Lovingly. They were on the living room floor with carpet burns on their knees and stray saliva and cum speckling the rug. They’d fucked three times already, as they spent the day exploring the ins and outs of each other’s bodies. Daisuke wanted to remember every inch of his partner. Every imperfection. He wanted to know if he had a birthmark on the inner part of his thigh, or if he had any childhood scars in places he dared to never show. And of course, he wanted to know just how _big_ he was.

“I want you to fuck me like you _love_ me.”

He cried out as he ejaculated. His breathing came out labored and staggered and ashamed. Along his bare legs was the seed he had sprout for a receiver he could never have. With a balled up fist, he brought his hand to his forehead and shook it vigorously, spitting curses out to drain the frustration and sickness out of his mind.

 

_What I would give to have you look in my direction_

_And I'd give my life to somehow attract your attention_

_And I touch myself like it's somebody else_

_Thoughts of you are tattooed on my mind, let me show you_

 

“Fuck you, dude.” Daisuke flung his playing cards at Ken’s face, the cards flying and fluttering to litter the floor around his friend.

Ken chuckled as he flicked a card off of his lap. “You are _such_ a sore loser, Daisuke.”

“What’d I say? Fuck you!”

Gathering the discarded cards, Ken couldn’t seem to keep a smile off of his face. “Listen, all you have to do is get good. Right?”

Daisuke huffed. They both looked at each other, sizing the other up to see who would make the first move. It was Daisuke. With a sweeping arm, he grabbed the collar of Ken’s shirt and whirled him down to the ground--or at least he tried to. Ken’s arm broke up against his, and in turn, his hand grasped onto Daisuke’s shirt and shoved him down to the ground. True to his old nickname, he launched himself on top of Daisuke like a rocket and pinned the smaller man below him. With his hand still on Daisuke’s collar, Ken grabbed a handful of cards and shoved them down the front of his shirt. His hand smooshed against his friend’s chest, and he drew his face closer and closer to Daisuke’s.

“What would you say to me in this case?”

Daisuke’s mind lagged a second behind. It took even longer as he felt Ken’s ass on top of his dick. He flushed against the pressure on his chest. “I-I don’t know.”

“‘Eat shit’?” Ken’s smile was sly and playful. A rare mood for him, indeed… Especially in the midst of test season. “What’s the matter, Motomiya? You can’t take what you dish out?”

“G… Get offa me.”

Ken wiggled slightly as he took his hand out from between his friend’s shirt. He pat Daisuke’s shirt down. He planted both hands on either side of Daisuke’s head, is hair concealing their faces from the lamplight. “Admit I’m right!”

“ _Get offa me!_ ” Daisuke managed to break free from under Ken, his legs kicking him across the apartment’s floor and springing him up. A waterfall of cards came spilling from under his shirt. “I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

“Motomiya?” Ken sat on the floor confused at what had just happened. When Daisuke returned with his rolled up futon he finally said, “I’m sorry.”

Daisuke shook his head, though he didn’t lift his eyes to look at Ken. It took all his focus to keep his dick soft. “It’s fine, Ken. You’re right. I’m a real sore loser.”

“I was just joking around.”

Daisuke sighed heavily as he flung out his futon into the open space of Ken’s living room. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Ken watched silently as Daisuke set up his sleeping arrangement. “Sleep well, Dai.”

Finally, Daisuke looked up at Ken with a soft smile and a shallow nod. “Thanks, Ken. You too.”

With the lights out and Ken’s door closed, Daisuke pointed his back away from Ken’s room and pressed his hand below the waistband of his boxers. Daisuke had smelled the tea on Ken’s breath, and he had measured the weight and balance of his friend on his hips. He imagined thrusting up and feeling that weight adjust against him. He imagined Ken’s eyes shutting against the feeling of being full of his jogress partner. Fingernails dragging against porcelain skin on strong legs--leaving red lines of love, like a tilled farmland, on the smooth surface.

“I’m yours.” The dark haired one would say.

“And I’m yours.” He would echo.

Behind a clamped mouth, he came against the fabric of his underwear, his teeth digging into his index finger as soft whimpers growled from the back of his throat. He shook his head, feeling stupid and weak and pathetic. He could have waited. He could just not have these feelings. Ken was a man. More importantly, Ken was his best friend. And he was in love with him. More than he could even control.

And all he could feel about it was disgust.

 

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_You'll never go, what do I do?_

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

 

He had tasted everything Ken had to offer. They had explored each other enough they could have made a living off of it. Daisuke had always thought he had a good imagination, but nothing prepared him for how it actually was. Fucking and being fucked by Ken… No… Making love and being made love to by Ken was something that could not be calculated or imagined. They had tried all the curiosities and more. They found what they liked and mastered it.

Daisuke knew exactly how deep he could suck off Ken before gagging. He knew the three-five-repeat rythme to get him to come the fastest. He knew the spot right where his jaw met his neck was the most sensitive part on his body. He knew that Ken liked to dominate with ropes, but enjoyed being fucked more than being the fuck-er.

He knew that at the end of orgasm, Ken would let Daisuke rest between under his arm, and between the rising and falling of their chests, they’d fall asleep. He knew that every time they said “I love you” it meant more than that. That they could never be separated, and every moment, no matter the moment, was the best moment of their lives.

It hurt. It hurt that after having it all, Daisuke ended up in an apartment in America, alone. Each night a struggle to retrace the steps to memories of feelings.

Now, all he had was a phantom to fuck and a cold pillow to cradle.

 

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_And I can't stop thinking about you_

_You'll never go, what do I do?_

_And I can't stop thinking about you_


End file.
